Tag Archives: cocaine

A Losing Battle

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Day 238

A light bulb went on in my head the first time coke hit my brain; I remember everything about the moment like a lost lover finding their soul mate.   Someone handed me a bullet in a crowded club in New York City.  It was NYE, 2007.

“Sniff this,” they said over the pounding mass of inaudible music.

“Okay,” I yelled back without thinking twice.

It was instant elation, like everything lit up and slowed down at the same time. The club transformed from a confined, sweaty, claustrophobic hell into good beats, pretty lights, and a dance floor; there was no pushing or shoving as I moved my way through the crowd with a confidence I’d never had before.  Cigarettes tasted amazing.  Alcohol felt hydrating and the drinks could keep coming all night without a worry of typical stumbling sloppiness.

The first time I heard about addicts “chasing the first high,” aka the perpetual return to a substance hoping to duplicate the same euphoric experience, I realized that cocaine wasn’t the same after that New Years night, and never once in the following six years.  It’s a chase that every addict will lose, and it’s hard to stop running.

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Nitrous and a Bounce House

It has been bought to my attention that blog posts longer than 300 words may dissuade readers from reading.  I’m not sure yet if I care or not…but here’s a short one for kicks.

Had a dream a few nights ago that I came upon a giant bouncy castle, I mean GIANT, in the middle of a field.  Once I walked inside I found that the walls were firm and not inflated but still made of plastic.  A man directed me towards a room with an enormously tall ceiling and equipped me with a backpack.  Turns out the backpack was filled with nitrous and enabled me to fly.  So I could get high and fly.  Yikes.

I have no idea what this dream meant, because A) In my drug heyday I never tried nitrous as a compromise to my body – I was already killing enough braincells.  And B) Bouncy castles terrify me, with all that hot sticky synthetic material just waiting to pop, collapse, and suffocate everyone inside. Granted, I never hesitated to drive completely wasted down the sinuous highway of 101 to meet a questionable character for cocaine in the woods, (it’s as sketchy as it sounds), and didn’t think twice about driving one state over to evade liquor laws, but bouncy castles?  Forget it.  That’s the stuff nightmares are made of.

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